


Director's Cut - And They Were Cellmates!

by Royalsciencenerd



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Behind the scenes edition, F/M, Gen, Quirin goes to prison, and apparently took Varian's brain cell with him, basically me and my beta giving commentary throughout the story because why not?, no one pays Eugene enough for this, platonic familial father-son relationship building through mutual imprisonment, this literally came to me in a dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28616769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royalsciencenerd/pseuds/Royalsciencenerd
Summary: Original: Varian went through a lot in order to get his father back, so he's not going to let a little thing like prison keep them apart.If you're new to the "Director's Cut" concept, it's just a look at the editing process between me and my beta, which consists mostly of cracking jokes, but with a little bit of actual editing.
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Quirin, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Varian, Quirin & Varian (Disney)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	Director's Cut - And They Were Cellmates!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm assuming everyone here has read the original, so once again I'm not going into all the plot details I think you should know. Underlined and italicized lines are my beta. Bold lines are me. Everything else is the fic.
> 
> So fun fact about my life: turns out my sister was an asymptomatic carrier, and I am not... (asymptomatic that is...).  
> Beta: No you are not.  
> Me: Yeah, this is actually the first day in a week I've been conscious for more than like 3 hours, so progress... I guess.... But anyways, that's why the Director's Cut took so long to get out and why Creeping Crystals has not been updated, because I have been very out of it.  
> B: *snorts* That's an understatement.... You literally called me saying you finished writing ch8 and it was literally the craziest thing I'd ever heard.  
> M: I had a 102 fever for 2.5 days - what do you want from me? My brain was fried, and I have no recollection of even calling you in the first place.  
> B: Not surprised.... That chapter was wild! *laughs*  
> M: It's been deleted and will be rewritten once I can go more than 5 seconds without coughing. It's not my fault my sister ignored my risk assessment and risk mitigation measures for coming home for Christmas and lied about when she got tested. I'm a microbiology major - I take the pandemic seriously!  
> B: No family drama in the Director's Cut!  
> M: Whatever.... Anyways, once again sorry for the wait. Enjoy the Director's Cut! :D

Quirin sighed, placing his head in his hands. He’d really done it this time…. It was one thing to complain about the king’s methods concerning the black rocks behind closed doors, but to the king’s face in front of a visiting foreign dignitary – that was treason. And so, he’d found himself in a cell in the castle dungeons awaiting his trial. **“For the record, I couldn’t think of anything else even remotely treasonous that Quirin would even consider doing, so that’s why I brought up the black rocks.”** _“Imagine how awkward that must have been for the visiting foreign dignitary. Frederic’s like: ‘You, jail. Now.’ And the dignitary’s like: ‘awkwaaaarrrrrrdddddd.’”_ **“I think it was more of foreign dignitary: ‘how dare you say something so disrespectful to your king’ and Frederic’s like ‘ding dang it, now I gotta punish you. Guards?’”**

It’d only been 6 hours, but Quirin was already beginning to panic. What if the king didn’t forgive him?!? What if he was stuck down here forever?!? Would anyone tell Varian?!? **“What if no one told Varian?”** _“‘Where’s my dad?’ ‘He’s around.’ Stan and Pete: ‘You have a dad?’”_ **“Also Stan and Pete: ‘Don’t worry, Varian! We’ll help you find your raccoon.’ Varian: ‘RUDDIGER IS NOT MY DAD!!!!’”** What would his son think of him?!? Who would take care of his son?!? **“Ruddiger – he did a decent job before…. Only minor decent into villainy and arrestment.”** _“But it was a supervised decent into villainy. He was there.”_ **“We love adult supervision!”**

Quirin is broken from his thoughts by the sound of jingling chains and approaching footsteps. He glances up as two guards, Stan and Pete if he remembers correctly, come into view. He freezes in shock as he sees the prisoner standing in chains between them.

“VARIAN?!?” Quirin gasps as he stares aghast at his son.

“Hi dad!” Varian greets, smiling as the two guards unlock the door, opening it, and guiding their captive inside. **“I really wish I had an artistic bone in my body, because this is the part of the dream that I died laughing at. The shocked look on Quirin’s face was priceless and I wish I could do better than stick figures so y’all could see it. And Varian, with his hands chained together is just smiling and he has to lift both hands so he can wave since he’s chained, and it was just such a funny image.”** After entering, Varian turns, holding out his chained wrists which the guards unlock, removing the cuffs. The two guards then exit the cell, locking the door behind them, and walking off down the hall, leaving the father-son duo in silence.

Varian makes his way over to the other bunk in the cell, and smiles at his dad sitting on the other one. Quirin just continues to stare at his son. After a few moments, Varian frowns and looks around the cell before facing his dad once again.

“Hey dad! Would you mind switching bunks with me? I know it’s dumb, but when I was in here with Andrew that was my bunk, and you know – nostalgia and whatnot.”

Quirin stares agape at his son, but hesitantly nods. Slowly standing up, he switches bunks with Varian.

Varian smiles as he sits on the bunk, patting it as he leans back against the wall. “Thanks dad! Much better.” _“*pats bunk* this is where I had my first mental breakdown…. And by first, I mean tenth….”_ **“Try like 1000 th!” **_“*Continues patting* We’ve been through a lot, but don’t worry buddy, I’m back.”_ **“Insert meme ‘*slaps bunk* this bunk can hold so much trauma’.” Inner Varian thoughts: ‘Also, Andrew farted so much on that one.’ I’m an immature person with the mind of a 5-year-old boy so ignore me.”** _“I guess the gruel didn’t sit well with Andrew.”_ **“This is what you get when you cross a med student with someone who has a gastrointestinal disorder – no boundaries. Kind of like Rapunzel….”**

Quirin tries to finds the words to articulate the ten thousand thoughts racing through his mind, but the best he can do is, “Why?”

Varian looks at his dad in confusion, before answering. “I don’t know. Andrew always insisted he have the left bunk, and I just kind of got used to always sleeping on the right one. If it’s going to be an issue, we can switch back….” _“Varian in head: ‘I was here first!’”_ **“Also Varian: ‘MY PRECIOUS!!!!’”**

Quirin shakes his head. “No, Varian. Why are you here?”

Realization dawns on Varian’s face. “Ohhhhh, right….” Rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, Varian chuckles humorlessly. “Yeah, you’re probably wondering what I did to get sent back to prison.” **“Aren’t we all?”** _“I thought Rule #1 of jail was never ask people what they’re in for?”_ **“IT’S HIS DAD! HE’S ALLOWED! Varian gets grounded while in prison – Quirin’s like ‘GO TO YOUR CORNER!’”** _“’JOKE’S ON YOU! I’M ALREADY IN MY CORNER! Plus, this is my house.’”_

Quirin nods eagerly. If he knew what happened, he might be able to get Varian out of prison. He could fix this. Probably…. **“Oh Quirin…. Sweet, sweet naïve Quirin.”** _“This is your son. He likes to go big or go home, and he wasn’t going home.”_ **“He went to his second home – prison.”** _“’I like to summer in Corona proper.’”_ **“Oh, yikes.”**

“Well, dad…. I um… kind of blew up a wing of the castle,” Varian stated sheepishly, refusing to make eye contact. _“You know, lying is always an option, Varian.”_ **“His dad would know.”** _“But he wouldn’t know what he did – only that he lied about it.”_ **“Quirin: ‘STAN/PETE! WHAT’D MY SON DO?!?’ Varian: ‘TATTLETALES!’”** _“That’s a violation of prisoner/guard confidentiality.”_

Okay so no fixing this. **“There’s only so much you can fix with the duct tape of fatherhood and good parenting, Quirin.”** “YOU DID WHAT?!?” Quirin screamed. Sighing, Quirin pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Varian, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times to be careful when performing your experiments. That way you don’t accidentally blow something up.”

Varian’s facial expression turned indignant. “I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!!!! That explosion was fully controlled!” _“He said, ‘I did it on purpose, dad.’”_

Quirin stared at his son, now fully confused. “WHAT?!? Since when do you blow things up on purpose?!?” **“Varian: ‘Since when did you start going to jail?!?’”**

Sighing, Varian clasped his hands, staring down at them. “Since I heard the guards talking about how they arrested the leader of Old Corona for treason.”

Quirin opened his mouth to reply, but found he had no words. Varian continued on, “I made sure no one was inside, that way no one was hurt. I just destroyed the building.”

Quirin frowned but said nothing. Well, at least that was better than his initial fears had led him to believe. **“Quirin really thought Varian blew people up – not on purpose, but Quirin’s head image is triage and them scrapping people off the pavement.”**

“I had to make sure you were okay,” Varian finished, looking up at his dad in concern.

Quirin sighed. “Varian, I’m fine. You on the other hand – what were you thinking?!? It’d be one thing if this was a first-time offense, but you have a criminal record!” His son would be lucky if he ever saw the light of day again. **“I also just realized, Varian is now 17/18 so he can tried as an adult – so that’s fun….”**

“I know, but-” Varian began before breaking off.

“But what?!?” Quirin asked.

“I couldn’t lose you. Not again,” Varian whispered, pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. **“It wouldn’t be a me fic without some angst and introspection.”** _“Yeah….”_

Quirin sighed, standing up and moving to sit next to his son on his bunk. He gently wrapped his arms around his son, embracing him. “Varian, I’m okay. You shouldn’t have worried.”

Varian shook his head. “I know firsthand the consequences for treason, dad. You would have been stuck done here forever, and I would have been left all alone again.”

Quirin pulled his son closer. “So what? You thought you’d commit a crime in order to get thrown in here with me?!?”

Varian chuckled humorlessly. “Pretty much…. It wasn’t my worst plan.” **“Facts.”** _“Super facts.”_ **“Factcheck – fact verified.”**

Quirin frowned. No, he supposed it wasn’t. However, they would still need to have another father-son talk on thinking things through. _“You’re gonna lecture him in his own house (cell)?!? Rude!”_

Quirin was about to speak again, when he was interrupted by a chattering coming from the ceiling. **“What if it was like a chipmunk or something?!? What if it wasn’t Ruddiger?”** _“Varian cheated on Ruddiger with another emotional support animal.”_ Next thing he knew, his son’s raccoon was dropping down, coming to sit next to his son opposite of himself. _*starts singing* “It’s raining raccoons, hallelujah”_ “Ruddiger?!?” Quirin asked in surprise. **“What if it wasn’t Ruddiger? What if it was just another raccoon? What if this was Varian’s escape plan? ‘Ok dad, so the plan is, we summon ALL the raccoons and fill this cell so when Stan and Pete walk by they’re like ‘what the heck?’, open the cell, you knock them out, and we run!’ It’s Varian’s army – we don’t need automatons anymore.”** _“He said ‘this is easier, the raccoons are already built.’”_ **“We love a preassembled army.”** Were there any members of this family NOT going to prison?!?

Varian, however, seemed elated at the raccoon’s presence. “Ruddiger!” he shouted as he pulled back from his dad’s hug to embrace the raccoon. _“F you dad, I just want my raccoon.”_ **“I don’t recall him blowing up a wing of the castle for Ruddiger.”** _“I’d blow up a castle for Ruddiger.”_ **“Okaaaayyyyy…. I guess that’s okay, considering I’d blow up a castle for Varian.”** _“That’s facts.”_

Quirin stared up at the ceiling, trying to make out the raccoon’s way of entrance in the gloom. “How did he even get in here?!?” _“’Love finds a way, father.’”_ **“Quirin: ‘Well I’d _love_ for him to get us out of here.’” **_“Varian: ‘Ruddiger also blew up a wing.’”_ **“What?”** _“Well, he is Varian’s raccoon. I just imagine him with a tiny detonator.”_ **“Well, he does have goggles and gloves….”**

Stroking Ruddiger’s fur, Varian looked up at his dad. “Oh, there’s a small hole in the ceiling, just small enough for Ruddiger to squeeze through. He used to come and go all the time, at least until Andrew scared him off.” **“A nod to why I think Ruddiger’s not there at the beginning of s3.”**

Quirin stood up, trying to get a closer look at a potential escape route.

Varian frowned, staring at his dad. “We won’t fit. I couldn’t even before my growth spurt, so now I definitely won’t. **“I just imagine, Varian standing on Andrew’s shoulders, with Andrew screaming at him: ‘Hurry up, pipsqueak and get up there!’”** _“’If you’re gonna be built like a girl then be useful like one.’ #feminist joke”_ **“I know I said no politics in director’s cuts, but that was funny!”** And don’t even think about asking Ruddiger to bring us supplies to help us escape – it just makes the guards mad.”

Quirin turned to his son in shock. “Who said anything about escaping?”

Varian smirked. “You had that ‘I’m thinking of a plan that will backfire spectacularly’ face while looking at what you thought was a potential escape route. Or at least I think that’s what that face was…. I’ve never seen it myself, but Andrew used to complain that I used to make that face all the time.” **“Andrew: ‘You make that face one more time, and I’ll smack it off!’”** _“To be fair, Quirin’s main concern was who will take care of Varian while he’s in prison, but he’s here so problem solved. You take care of him while you’re in prison.”_

Quirin frowned, moving to sit back on his own bunk. “I’m surprised you haven’t already thought of an escape route.”

Varian sighed, continuing to stroke Ruddiger’s fur. “I’ve already tried everything I could think of before. Besides, I _chose_ to be here.” _“Yeah dad, consent is sexy.”_

“You blew up part of the castle,” Quirin remarked.

“Yeah, but I _chose_ to do that, knowing full well the consequences of my actions,” Varian replied.

Quirin leaned back against the wall, glancing around the cell a final time. “I’m surprised you’re so okay with this, son,” Quirin commented. “Being back in prison, in your cell – you would tell me if you weren’t okay, right?” **“And welcome back to your regularly scheduled angst!”** _“To be fair, what would Quirin even do if Varian said he wasn’t okay? They’re both in prison – it’s not like they can leave.”_

Varian nodded. “Of course. But I’m fine – really. I’ll always be fine as long as my dad’s here to help me.” ***Starts singing ‘With you by my side’ even though I still don’t care for that song***

Quirin sighed. “You know there’s such a thing as visitation. You would have still been able to come see me.” _“Why didn’t Quirin visit Varian?”_ ***stares at beta like “are you serious?”*** _“Oh wait… amber…. Right, my bad.”_

Varian scoffed, “Oh yeah, a former criminal with a history of losing it and destroying anyone and anything in his way to save his dad. I’m sure I’d be at the top of the list of allowed visitors,” he replied sarcastically. _“Yeah, they let him in, but they might not let him out.”_ **“As seen in this fic, Varian’s perfectly fine with that.”**

Quirin frowned. “I see your point….”

They fell into silence, Quirin trying to think of ways to get them both out of this situation, while Varian continued to stroke Ruddiger’s fur.

After about an hour with no progress made in planning an escape, Quirin’s thoughts were interrupted by Varian speaking again. _“He talks too much. Quirin misses the silence.”_

“687,” Varian commented, glancing around the cell.

“What?” Quirin glanced at his son, confused.

“687 – the number of rocks that make up this cell,” Varian repeated. **“If someone roasts me on that number, I swear I will stop posting my fanfiction, so help me…. It’s not like I counted - let me live.”** Seeing the look on his dad’s face, Varian frowned. “Oh sorry, did you want to count them yourself?” he asked. _“Varian literally spoiled the ending of a very good movie.”_ **“That was on Quirin’s to-do list for 8:30 – way to go, Varian.”**

Quirin gaped at his son. “Why would I-”

Varian’s face flushed. “You were staring off into space, so I thought you were counting the rocks to help pass the time. I used to do it all the time…. That’s how I know there’s 687 of them.” **“That’s why he’s so confident about the number – he’s literally probably done it like 300 times.”**

“I wasn’t counting the rocks,” Quirin commented. Seeing his son’s embarrassment, he backtracked. “But that’s nice to know.” **“Quirin really said, “extra info I don’t care about, but that’s cool.’”** _“But that’s how kids are – they tell you stuff that doesn’t really matter and you are expected to care.”_ **“This is why neither of us have children.”** _“Not to mention we are terribly young and poor with not a male prospect in sight.”_ **“If we start getting creepy comments saying, ‘I’m a male prospect’ I’m going to verbally murder you.”** _“So, prospect, is that your professional title?”_ **“I hate you so much sometimes.”** _*goes undercover and leaves an anonymous comment as ‘Maleprospect687’*_ **“I will punch you…. In the face….”** _“NOT IN THE MALE PROSPECT’S FACE!”_ **“NOT THEIRS! YOURS! I’LL SMACK SOME SENSE INTO YOU AND WE WILL NEVER DO A DIRECTOR’S CUT EVER AGAIN!”** _“That’d be depressing – think of the fans….”_

They drifted back into silence before Varian broke it again. “So…, what were you thinking about, dad?”

Quirin sighed. “I’m trying to figure a way to get us out of here. Why do you ask?”

“Just trying to pass the time,” Varian murmured.

Quirin paused, frowning as realization dawned on him. “Are you _bored_?!?” he questioned. _“’Well, yeah, dad…. I already played all the prison games – thrice…. And you don’t rant as much as Andrew. So yeah, I’m bored.’”_ **“’I’d say sue me, but we’re in prison already….’”**

Varian grinned sheepishly. “Maybe a little….”

Quirin resisted the urge to facepalm. He’d been in this cell for a little over 7 hours now. His son had barely been in here for one. If they were both facing life-sentences then this would not bode well for either of them. A bored Varian was a reckless Varian.

Quirin gulped. He couldn’t believe he was even considering asking what he was about to ask, much less actually asking. “So…, son. What did you used to do to pass the time?”

Varian frowned. “Well usually I’d listen to Andrew rant about how much he hated the king, the monarchy in general, Corona, Cassandra, the princess, the guards, etc. etc. Then I would usually rant for a bit about how much I hated Rapunzel, her fake promises, the black rocks, the kingdom, the king, etc. before I’d get super depressed and start talking about how much I missed you, and how I just wanted to go home, and then Andrew would yell at me for losing focus, and-” Varian stopped as he took in the horrified look on his dad’s face. _“They probably bonded over hating Rapunzel! They have a fan-club. They’re president and vice president.”_ “Forget I said anything…. None of those topics are relevant now anyways.” _“When you spill too much of your past trauma and your friends get uncomfortable….”_

Quirin nodded slowly. Yup, he knew he would regret asking. He knew he shouldn’t have asked a question if he didn’t want to know the answer.

Before Quirin can say anything, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts. Quirin turns to find one of the guards bringing two trays of food, sliding them through the grate in the cell.

“Dinner,” the guard states before turning and walking away.

Varian quickly gets up and grabs the two trays, passing one to his father. At his father’s disgusted look, Varian laughs. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he remarks before digging into his own meal.

Quirin frowns down at the gruel in his bowl, the small roll, and cup of water. **“Fun fact: The R &D team went hard on this fic – did you know the early 1800s in which Tangled takes place (supposedly, although there’s debate) was actually the beginning of prison reform? People were complaining that prisoners were emerging from prison too weak from malnourishment to reenter society and were dying so they fought for improved food. It was a big issue though because it was a balance between not wanting the food to be too good in prison, otherwise the poor working class would commit crimes and go to jail on purpose, but also the food had to be good enough to keep people nourished so they could be released and have a life after prison.” **_“Tangled takes place in the 1800s?” **“So says Wikipedia….”**_ Picking up the spoon, he takes a small bite. It’s not the worst thing he’s ever tasted, (his travels as part of the Brotherhood have led to him eating some disgusting things), but it’s not pleasant either.

Quirin glances up to see his son eating with no complaints. Varian notices and comments, “If you breathe through your nose right before you take a bite, and then exhale after you swallow, you can barely taste it.” **“Shout out to R &D Team (aka myself googling ‘how to eat foods you don’t like’)” **_“Varian should write a book: ‘How to survive prison.’”_ **“I just thought of something: In ‘Cassandra’s Revenge,’ Cassandra says ‘it must be hard to make decisions when the only advisors you have left are ex-convicts and losers’ and I just realized Varian is an ‘ex-convict’ and Eugene and Lance are not (since Lance argues that ‘technically, they have never been convicted of anything’), and that makes me sad. It’s one of those things I knew deep down, but don’t really like to think about.”**

Quirin doesn’t respond except to try his son’s little trick. He’s pleasantly surprised to find it works. They eat the rest of their meal in silence. After a while, another guard comes and collects their empty trays.

A few hours later, and another guard comes by, blowing out the torches and lighting candles in their place. “Lights out!” they call.

Varian folds his pillow in half and turns on his side, cradling Ruddiger to his chest. Quirin lays back on his bunk, twisting and turning, trying to find some way to get comfortable.

“You’re not going to be able to get comfortable,” Varian comments, glancing over at his dad. “It took me three months before I was able to sleep more than a few hours at a time. And not just because of the nightmares. These beds are hard as rock.” _“Quirin wishes he has an emotional support animal now….”_

Quirin grunts in response, folding his own pillow in half in an attempt to get at least some cushion for his head. Within minutes he hears his son’s soft snores. How Varian could possibly sleep on such a hard surface in such a gloomy cell is a mystery to Quirin, until he remembers that’s exactly what his son did for a year of his life.

Groaning softly in frustration, Quirin gives up on sleep, and instead lets his thoughts drift towards his son. His son who had no problems adjusting to being in a cell again, except for boredom. His son who knows all sorts of tips and tricks for making life in prison more bearable, because he has experience. His teenage son, who should not know all these things, and yet he does because he’s experienced them all before without him. His son, who was so scared he’d lose him again, he was willing to experience the hardships of prison life all over again, just to make sure they weren’t separated.

Quirin sighed. What was he going to do? Varian should have never blown up that wing of the castle – his son never should have been thrown in prison again. He was supposed to be protecting him. He never should have made that snide remark in front of that foreign dignitary. Then he wouldn’t have been thrown in prison, his son wouldn’t have felt the need to commit a crime in order to join him here, and they would both be back home in Old Corona enjoying some ham sandwiches and hot cocoa right about now while he listened to Varian babble on about his latest experiment.

Instead, he’s locked in a dark gloomy cell, staring up at the rocks in the ceiling, listening to the sound of his son’s snores, while contemplating where he went wrong, and how he can possibly fix this.

~~~~~~

He must have eventually drifted off to sleep, because he awakens to the sound of footsteps walking down the hallway once again. Tensing as he sits up, Quirin glances over to see his son is still sound asleep. Ruddiger, however, was also woken by the noise, and bristles protectively in front of his son. **“We love a guard raccoon.”** _“This is my attack raccoon. Ruddiger makes me want a raccoon – they’re so chubby.”_ **“You realize Ruddiger is a fictional character and that real raccoons are not very sanitary.”** _“But a girl can hope there’s one in the world like him. And I could give it a bath.”_

Quirin braces himself, preparing to be dragged off to his trial, or to watch his son be dragged off to his own, when the Captain of the Guard comes into view.

Eugene sighs as he comes to a stop in front of the cell. **“Eugene is questioning his life choices right about now.”** _“Be captain of the guard, they said, it’ll be fun, they said. No one said anything about your friends going to jail and there being a conflict of interest, but this is fine….”_ Pulling a key from his belt, he unlocks it with a clang, causing Varian to stir groggily. **“I would like to take this moment to point out that Varian, if he had been alone or with Andrew would have been wide awake, freaking out right about now. But Quirin is here, and that makes all the difference. So, Varian gets sleep because he needs it.”** _“He knows he’s safe. He’s in his jail cell with his best friend and his dad. He’s content.”_

“Alright, listen up!” he states. “Quirin, Rapunzel was able to smooth things over with her father and the foreign dignitary so as long as you apologize you are free to go.”

At this, Varian bolts upright, smiling. Quirin frowns. What about Varian?

“And **_YOU_** ,” Eugene turns to face Varian, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Goggles, you know you’re not supposed to blow things up, especially not without permission. **“Eugene’s like ‘you exploded things without me?!? But we’re Team Awesome!’”** _“’But Eugene, if I blew stuff up with you as the captain, I wouldn’t go to jail and that was the whole point.’”_ **“Eugene: ‘I’m the captain! You could have just asked to be thrown in jail!’”** But since one of the other guards saw you checking the hallways before you set off your ‘little’ explosion, and no one was inside and therefore, no one was hurt, you are free to go as well. Plus, according to Rapunzel, you were discussing renovations with her for that wing last week anyways. HOWEVER, you **_WILL_** be helping to rebuild that **_ENTIRE_** wing, mister. Am I clear?!?”

Varian nodded, hopping off his bunk, smiling. “Crystal!” _“Too soon. I’m triggered.”_ **“What?”** _“’Creeping Crystals.’”_ **“Ohhhhh…. Well now I’m triggered because I feel guilty for not updating that fic.”** Scooping up Ruddiger, he exited the cell. Turning to face his shocked father, Varian shouted, “Come on, dad!” and turned to leave the dungeons. Quirin exited the cell, following along behind the captain and his son.

As they left, Quirin listened as his son babbled on and on about how since they were starting from scratch with that wing, he could add all sorts of extra features. **“And there’d be a pool, and a water fountain, and a disco room…”** _“And a rainforest café”_ **“Literally why?”** _“I’m 22 and I’ve never gone. Varian would be like: ‘I’m gonna make an environment so full of thunder and gorillas.’”_ **“Okay. A) I’ve been, and it’s okay…. Not a necessary addition to the palace, but okay. B) You’re 23.”** _“Oh right…. We’re like the oldest people in this fandom probably.”_ **“Nuh-uh…. I’ve met people ages 11-30 in this fandom via AO3 thank you very much! So, we’re in the middle.”** _“I love that for us.”_ **“I would take a poll of everyone’s ages to prove my point, but I don’t want to be creepy.”** _“That’s fair.”_

“And since we have to rebuild the walls anyways, I can run my hot water pipes within the walls. Oh! And maybe some wiring for some electric lights as well! And then I could start on the next wing by knocking down that one wall, and-”

“Whoa, slow down, Hairstripe!” Eugene calls, placing a hand on Varian’s shoulder. “That’s a condition of your parole – you leave the demolition part of the renovations to the professionals.” _“Varian: ‘how do I apply to become a professional? Where’s the sign-up sheet?’”_ **“Okay, but that’s totally something Varian would do. Just show up to the construction site one day, and Eugene’s like ‘hey I told you to leave the demolition to the professionals’ and Varian smoothly replies, ‘I know, that’s why I got certified. I AM a professional now.’ *Eugene facepalms*”**

Varian sighed. “Fine! But this new wing is going to be AWESOME!!!! **“This one wing of the palace is going to be soooooo 21 st century and futuristic.”** I’m going to start drawing up the plans right now!” With that, Varian ran off, leaving his father and the captain behind.

Eugene chuckled as he watched Varian run off. Turning to Quirin, he smiled. “I see prison hasn’t changed Varian – at least this time. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Quirin replied. **“Like father like son.”** _“We love our emotionally constipated men.”_ “Mostly glad my son is okay, and that you were able to let us go. You’ll have to send my regards to the princess.”

“Will do,” Eugene smiled. As they exited the dungeon, Eugene turned to face Quirin once again. “Hey, Varian seems to be fine, but I’ll keep an eye on him just in case.”

Quirin nodded. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

Eugene nodded. “It’s the least I could do for my friend. And I’ll try to make sure there aren’t any more explosions in the near future either.”

Quirin laughed as he turned to go apologize to the visiting foreign dignitary. “I’ve been trying for 17 years, captain, so I wish you the best of luck in that endeavor.”

Eugene smirked. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. There’s nothing Team Awesome can’t fix.”

Quirin nodded before turning the corner. Good luck with that plan, Eugene. You’re gonna need it.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let us know what you thought! :)


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